


Prompt the Midwife

by aimeejessica



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: A Collection of Drabbles, F/M, based off prompts i've received, ptsd warning, there is a scene of war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:02:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27185602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aimeejessica/pseuds/aimeejessica
Summary: A series of drabbles from prompts I have received on tumblr.Turnadette centric.
Relationships: Bernadette | Shelagh Turner & Patrick Turner, Bernadette | Shelagh Turner/Patrick Turner
Comments: 17
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off a prompt from miss_ute
> 
> "“ shh, it’s me, only me. ” ;)"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: PTSD

His ears were ringing; mortar fire deafening him to the cries of the wounded and dying. His vision was the only sense he could rely on to keep him alive in this moment. Through the smoky haze, and darkness of night, he allowed himself to scan the bloodied battlefield before him.

"Medic!" A call from somewhere down the line was swallowed by the cacophony of war. He didn't hear it.

He raced to the first man he saw injured; a boy, barely looking old enough to be on the front. His dark eyes searched the boys face, his own blue eyes, reddened with tears, looked terrified. He couldn't blame him, he too was frightened.

Adrenaline kept him moving; examining the boy quickly to see that his legs had been lost. The gnarly, bleeding stumps led him to believe he had been caught in the barrage of mortar fire. His uniform was stained at his stomach, and the assumption was that the boy was also wounded with shrapnel.

The man didn't know where to start. Would he be able to save this boy?

The ringing in his ears had subsided enough to hear the boy. He had pleaded with the man to pass on his love to his family back at home. He had clutched the boys hand as he had slipped away in the dirt and rubble that engulfed them.

* * *

Patrick had awoken in an uncomfortable sweat, his heart racing and his breath coming rapidly as he attempted to inhale. He had been turning in his sleep; the covers were thrown off him and the sheets were a twisted mess at his legs.

In his restlessness, he had woken her. Her hand was rested on his shoulder as he attempted to rid the last of his nightmare.

"Shh, it's me," her accented voice whispered. Her thumb now rubbing circles over his shoulder. She felt him start to relax into her touch, certain she could now wrap him in her embrace. No matter how much smaller she was than he, she allowed him to roll into her, resting his head upon her breast. "Only me." She reinforced, placing a gentle kiss upon his brow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the winky face in the prompt, I guess you expected me to take a different route to the one I did.
> 
> Feel free to send me prompts on tumblr :D  
> https://aimee-jessica.tumblr.com/


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is based off a prompt from levinson_mannion
> 
> "Shelagh having a a really tough day and Patrick is there to cheer her up (pure fluff 😂)"

Patrick arrived home before her. She had insisted that she didn't need help with the labouring mother at the maternity home and that Nurse Dyer was ample support.

He knew she had, had a taxing day. He had made her late that morning; she had fallen even more behind when the incorrect dose of penicillin had been allocated to Nonnatus House and she had, had to fight for the correct dose.

He wanted to make it up to her by making the family dinner and sorting the children out before she came home.

He was uncoordinated in the kitchen, throwing together the simplest of meals; bangers and mash. He knew the children wouldn't care, but he was worried she would scold him for the unhealthy choice.

She had arrived home three hours after him; the dark bags under her eyes hidden by the frames of her glasses, and the loose hairs from her usually perfect updo being the main indicators to her tiring day.

He had greeted her with an arm around her waist and a light kiss to her forehead. He had desperately wanted to ask how the night had gone, but he knew better and kept his curiosity to himself.

"I cooked dinner," he offered, as she stripped off her coat. "And while you eat, I'll draw you a bath."

She gave him a tired smile as he retrieved her meal from its storage in the oven and placed it on the table.

* * *

He had drawn her a bath, as he had said she would and had told her not to stress herself with washing up her dish.

She had been grateful for his support, and his silence around work. The last thing she needed was to be reminded of her long day.

She had asked where the children were, but as he led her up stairs and down the hallway to the bathroom, she had realised he had managed to get them settled and tucked into their beds. She had peaked her head into their rooms as she had passed, a warm smile gracing her otherwise fatigued face.

"Thank you, Patrick," she had told him honestly, as he leaned against the vanity in the bathroom. She wasn't self conscious as she undressed, making quick work of her uniform and letting it fall messily at her feet before discarding her glasses and passing them to her husband.

Slipping herself into the warm water, she felt a wave of relief wash over her; the heat soothing her aching body.

She leaned her back against the tub, her head resting on the edge of the cool metal, her eyes closed.

She hadn't taken her hair out, and he had offered to let it down for her. She didn't protest at his gesture and let out a content sigh.

"I'm going to pop down and do the last of the washing up," he had told her.

Her eyes had shot open, looking to him standing above her. "Stay," was all she had said.

And so he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to send me prompts on tumblr :D  
> https://aimee-jessica.tumblr.com/


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another prompt from levinson_mannion!
> 
> "Soon after their marriage, Shelagh is ill and Patrick gets paranoid it is her TB and mollycoddles her"

“You need to take time off,” It wasn’t a suggestion.

“Patrick, if I remember correctly,” she stopped mid sentence as another bout of coughing tore through her chest. “You were the one who offered me the job,”

“And you are entitled to some day off sick,” he shot back, listening as his wife wheezed with each breath.

They were laid side by side in bed; the blankets on her side covering her from the waist down while on his side they were pulled up under his armpits.

She rolled away from him, not wanting this conversation to continue. She had a cough which she put down to the change in season, the springtime pollen irritating her lungs.

“It’s just a cough,” as ironic as it was, another cough ripped through her. “Goodnight,”

He dropped it, letting Shelagh have the last word, but that didn’t stop the worry brewing in his heart. Only several months earlier had she finished her treatment at Saint Anne’s sanatorium and since her departure from the Order, she had been indulging herself more frequently in his cigarettes.

He didn’t sleep that night, worried that the disease had returned.

The following morning, she reluctantly took his advice, telling him she would take the two days off to try to recover what ailed her. 

Over those days, her wheeze had slowly disappeared, however there had been little improvement to the hacking cough. She had kept herself tucked up in bed, or curled on the little sofa in their living room; a combination of ginger tea, honey tea and frequent consumption of water had failed to clear her chest.

Patrick had been worried for her. He had gone out of his way to organise a locum to cover him so he could stay home with his poorly wife. Assisting her with bathing and dressing.

While she loved him dearly for looking after her, she had become increasingly frustrated with her lack of freedom.

“Patrick, I’ve told you, it’s just a cough,” She was almost pleading with him to believe her.

He sighed. “I’m terrified for you,” she reached to grasp his hand. “What if the tuberculosis has returned?”

Squeezing his hand was her way of reaffirming him that it most definitely had not.

* * *

A week had passed and Shelagh’s cough had finally made itself scarce. 

She had returned to work on a strictly _part time_ basis, as she initially wanted and Patrick hadn’t put up a fight. He had been terrified of the disease making a return and he couldn’t bare to lose her for another round of treatment and isolation.

And he wouldn’t think about the possibility of losing her so soon after they had found each other.

With everything settled and life returning to normal, the couple had stopped sleeping side-by-side, and instead returned to their usual cuddled positions.

This time, however, Shelagh brought Patrick into her arms as he would usually do her. His arm wrapped around her waist, and his head rested on her shoulder, he finally relaxed from the mental strain he had put on himself.

“I’m still here,” she whispered. “I’m not going anywhere,”

Her hand, sitting idle on his arm, moved to tangle in his hair; her fingers massaging his scalp before her touch became lighter and she lazily dragged her fingers through the mess of dark hair.

“I love you,” he whispered against her chest, his voice soft as he slowly succumbed to the soothing feel of her hand in his hair.

“I love you too,” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to send me prompts on tumblr :D  
> https://aimee-jessica.tumblr.com/


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another prompt from the lovely @levinson_mannion
> 
> "“You deserve better then me” I can just hear these words coming out Shelagh’s mouth during their engagement 🥺🥺"

Shelagh had never felt so low in her life; not when her mother had passed, not when he father had passed, not even when she had attended a birth resulting in a lost mother or baby. 

She couldn’t help the unhappiness she felt for turning her back on her chosen vocation. She had dedicated a decade to serving the Lord and equally as long serving the mother’s and babies of Poplar.

She should be overjoyed that she had decided what life she truly wanted for herself; a diamond ring on her finger signalling she was to marry the man she had been dreaming of. She had chosen love over all else, and her God should be rejoicing for her as she should herself.

“You’re even more quite than usual, my love,” Patrick had been sat with her in his living room, eye’s watching the emotions that crossed her face. Shelagh had been quite, but her face had been contorting with each thought that crossed her mind. “A penny for your thoughts?”

Pulled out of her own world, she slowly blinked and looked to her fiance. His face wore an expression of concern at her emotional withdrawal and she couldn’t help but feel like she would break his heart with how she felt.

Shaking her head, she gazed down at her hands clasped on her lap, the right hand absentmindedly twisting the ring on her finger. 

She had wanted him for so long now, but now that she had him and was about to have him for the rest of their days, she wondered whether she was everything he wanted.

Marrying her would come with the gossip of how a respected Nun in the community had been seduced by the local doctor, how he had only lost his wife only a couple of short years ago, how he just wanted someone to look after Timothy. Shelagh worried that Timothy would be bullied at school; she assumed the boys would tease him for having a step-mother and that it was no true replacement for his own mother.

And then the biggest upset for her; she was a virgin. She had no experience with romance and the only experience with sex was the medical textbooks she had studied from when she was still training as a midwife.

How could Patrick honestly want someone who had no clue what life outside a convent entailed.

A tear slipped from her cheek and she looked back to Patrick, her voice was barely audible “You deserve better than me.” 

Patrick closed the gap between them, shuffling to her side and cupping her clasped hands in his. “But there is nothing better than you,” he reassured. “I’ve been dreaming about you; about us.” he took a deep breath as he realised his words hadn’t made a difference to her stance. “Shelagh,” he took her chin in hand as she tried to look away. “Before we met on that road, I had already decided that I was in love with you. Actually, I decided it long before your tuberculosis diagnosis, and long before that again.”

Her tears were falling faster now, meeting at the bottom of her chin and pooling where Patrick still held her.

“I don’t want anyone but you, my love. I admire the care and consideration you put into your patients, and to Timothy. I love that you have such strong moral values to ignore me for months so you could figure yourself out. I care about your opinions,”

“I’m a virgin -” she sputtered out her biggest concern, sniffing back tears.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Patrick was slightly taken aback by what she had said; was this really what had been getting her down.

“You don’t care that I am a grown woman who has no experience whatsoever? How am I meant to give you everything when I haven’t experienced _anything_?”

Patrick chuckled a little. “Shelagh, you were a Nun. I expected as much and to be frank, I really don’t care about your sexual past. We are here to learn, grow and love together.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “You really mean that?”

Patrick returned her smile, drawing her face to his. “Until the end of our days,” he confirmed, placing a gentle kiss on her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to send me prompts on tumblr :D  
> https://aimee-jessica.tumblr.com/


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a prompt from anon:
> 
> IMAGINE: Patrick is just playing with Shelagh’s hair and ends up being a really nice hair do

The two youngest Turner children had scattered an assortment of toys across the living room as they played happily in front of a roaring fire.

Shelagh sat with them on the floor, her back pressed against her husband's legs as he sat on the sofa, his fingers mindlessly running through her hair.

"Mama, look!" The little blonde boy excitedly held up a toy spitfire, the same one that Timothy had once played with when he was still young enough to bother. Teddy made motions of the small aircraft flying through the air.

Shelagh smiled at her son, leaning further into her husband. "Thats wonderful!" She tried to convey the same enthusiasm as the boy.

"That's a spitfire, bud," Patrick's hand stilled for a moment in his wife's hair as he turned his attention to the boy.

Angela had been preoccupied with her dolls as her brother played with the toy plane, stopping to watch the interactions between her family.

Her eyes had spotted how her mother and father sat, and she awkwardly got herself off the ground, moving to sit in front of her mother.

Shelagh welcomed her, opening her legs so the girl could sit between them. Her hands tangled into blonde locks as she mimicked her husband's movements on her daughter.

"Daddy, you should do mummy's hair, and she can do mine!" If Teddy were old enough, he would have rolled his eyes at how girly it seemed, but he was preoccupied in his own world.

Shelagh smiled at the girl between her legs, raking her fingers through her hair. "Oh, I'm not sure daddy could do hair as well as I can," Shelagh told her daughter, her tone was meant to tease her husband.

She felt Patrick move behind her, leaning over her shoulder. "Want to bet?" He whispered into her ear, placing a kiss to her temple.

Shelagh turned her head to look at Patrick, pressing her lips to his. "And what do I get if I win?"

Patrick smiled at her, "If, and only if, you win, I will cook breakfast every morning,"

Shelagh laughed, drawing the attention of the children to the whispered words between their parents. "But you can't cook,"

Patrick pretended to be offended, knowing that his wife was being truthful.

Shelagh wasted no time in French braiding Angela's hair, occasionally eliciting winces from the girl as she snagged small strands.

"All done, dear," Shelagh told Angela, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Angela was quick to jump up from the floor to run to the bathroom to look at herself in the mirror. She squealed in excitement as she saw her new hair do, running back to her parents and little brother. "I love it, mummy! Can you do my hair like this everyday?"

Shelagh sighed, a smile still on her face. She should have known that her daughter would love the change in hair style and she had unintentionally created more work for herself each morning. Shelagh nodded in confirmation.

"Angela, I have a favour to ask," Patrick motioned with his head for the girl to come over. As she ran over, she leaned in so Patrick could whisper in her ear.

Angela's eyes lit up at her fathers secretive words, running for the stairs and disappearing out of sight.

Patrick fussed with Shelagh's hair, pulling it in places and twisting it in others. Shelagh let out protests similarly to Angela as certain strands of hair became snagged and pulled too tight.

"You're as bad as Angela," Patrick teased, which had him receiving a playful slap to his leg. With that, Angela came back down the stairs, pins and hairspray in hand. "Thank you, Angela," he thanked as he took the items from the girl.

She giggled, looking at her parents as Patrick finished styling his wife's hair, setting it with spray.

"Wow!" Angela exclaimed. "Mummy, you look so pretty!"

A blush crept across her cheeks as she copied her daughters actions; making her way to the bathroom to look at her reflection in the mirror.

Patrick had kept her usual updo, but instead of pulling it tight as she would, he left it loose, a few strands near her ears not tied back at all, a slight curl to the dark blonde hairs.

Returning from the bathroom she couldn't help but stare lovingly at her husband who was now in her spot on the floor playing with their children.

He was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to send me prompts on tumblr :D  
> https://aimee-jessica.tumblr.com/


End file.
